This is a song about "The bay"

Aroma, strong enough to bring ‘em outta coma

So call the coroner or the mortician for the the

Out of this word play? ... no! i'ma dump your body in the bay.

But habits have changed and i've been trying to change mine all the way

Metaphor, chilling with better whores

The pain, the loss, the grief, the cross.

Bad bitch and she gon fuck me every way, never stay

I could ever let another thought keep me at bay

Real nigga shit i gotta make it one day

No one can find me. i can fish for food in this bay.

Get my fill on with this grandmother named jill

Im born in the bay so these fish need to chill

No bullshit, every shy bitch can get a rose

In the field of the damned, the only sentries are the crows.

Straight from my bombers bay

Oh i gotta face the day